Once again, Vir appreciated just how blessed he was to have someone like Cirayus in his life.
“You know,” he said when they’d finished stuffing themselves. “If you’d told me you had a soft, caring side back when we’d first fought? I’d never have believed it. I’m guessing most of the Demon Realm doesn’t have a clue either.”
“Aye, lad. And they never will. Reputations are quite the precious commodity, after all.”
Aida snorted. “I’ll never be able to see him as anything other than a warm, cuddly bear. If you ask me, the whole Ravager thing is a facade.”
“Now, Aida,” Cirayus began, but his granddaughter cut him off.
“A carefully crafted facade, yes, but a facade nonetheless. You’ll never convince me otherwise, Ajja,” she said, sticking a tongue out, before turning to address Vir.
“My grandfather used to shower me with gifts whenever we first met. He’d put me on his shoulders and run around our house. For the longest time, I actually thought the ‘Ravager’ everyone talks about was a different demon entirely.”
“Refused to believe it, too, when I told her,” Cirayus said with a warm, nostalgic smile.
“I know exactly how she felt, Cirayus. I can relate.”
“See? See!” Aida said, pointing at Vir. “It’s not just me!”
They traded banter like this for another hour before Aida hugged her much smaller grandfather and bid him a tear-filled farewell, with Cirayus muttering ‘now, now’ while tenderly patting her back. In that moment, she truly did resemble a granddaughter being doted on by her family.
“Well, lad? Excited for Tara’s match tomorrow?” Cirayus asked. “I admit, I’m curious to see a Panav fight.”
“So am I,” Vir admitted. “Wonder if she’s anything like Balagra. I have a feeling those two would get along.”
“Would certainly make for an interesting fight,” Cirayus admitted.
“Sure would, though with Yuma’s Embrace, there’s no way Tara could lose. She’d be quite an unstoppable force on an actual battlefield.”
“Aye, that she would. The Panav specialize in healing, and most of those who master Yuma’s Embrace have little desire to jump to the front lines of a battlefield. The few that do, however… ’Tis one thing to fight knowing you are mortal, lad. Your tactics and strategies all revolve around keeping you safe. But if you can heal your wounds in an instant? ’Tis another matter entirely.”
“I can see that,” Vir admitted. “Though they still feel pain, don’t they?”
Cirayus grinned wryly. “Pain can be trained, as you know well. Pain can be overcome. I knew of only one Panav Warrior who’d managed the feat. Long, long ago.”
“He was strong, I take it?”
“They called him a Samsara. An immortal being. He was terrifying, lad. You could stab him and skewer him and burn him, and he’d laugh it all off and come at you. There are few things more terrifying than fighting someone who feels no pain. At least with most, you know they’ll die before they can do very much. Not so with a Panav who’s mastered their bloodline ability.”
Vir could picture it. A being whose mere presence caused his enemies to flee in terror. He wondered if he’d ever be like that, one day.
He also wondered if Tara and Balagra would ever meet, though as long as Balagra remained in his service, Vir doubted they’d have a chance.
Which meant he’d have to watch her fight closely tomorrow, so he could tell his Naga friend all about it.
Vir couldn’t wait.
In an empty hall of the Ravager’s Den, sometime well after the City of Camar Gadin had gone to sleep, two figures met. One, a Kothi, and the other, Ghael.
They were neither cloaked nor hidden, for it wasn’t at all unusual for two fighters in the tournament to meet. Some may have questioned the late hour, though precisely because of the hour, there was no one to overhear them.
“Well? What’s all this about? Why have you asked me here, and at this hour, no less?” Annas, the Kothi, asked.
Zarak’Nor, who had just appeared out of the ground, said nothing for a long moment.
“Take precautions against Vaak,” the Ghael said at last, in a voice even scratchier than most of his kind.
Annas snorted. “Just because you lost to an absolute nobody doesn’t mean I will. I watched your battle. A pathetic showing.”
Annas waited for Nor to reply, but the Ghael simply stared, his face a blank mask.
“Do you know what everyone is saying?” Annas asked, bristling.
“Yes. They say my prior victory was a fluke. You forget our talent at scouting and espionage.”
“A lot of good that did you, Nor. You were blindsided in round one. If I were you, I’d be embarrassed even to show my face in public.”
“I called you here to give you a warning, Annas,” Nor said, his tone betraying no hint of anger. “To warn you about Vaak.”
The Ghael moved in an instant. By the time Annas registered Nor had disappeared, the Iksana’s katar was at the Kothi’s throat.
“You can’t hurt me here,” Annas said, maintaining a calm, even tone despite the unexpected attack. “You pull anything and you’ll be answering to Sagun’Ra himself. Is that what you want, Nor? To be a criminal as well as a failure?”
“Relax,” Nor muttered, stepping away. “I didn’t come here to fight. Only to make you listen. And to tell you something you will find interesting.”
“Oh?” Annas said, smirking at Nor as he massaged his throat. “And what might that be?”
“Oh, just that the Iksana have reason to believe that this Vaak character is the very same masked Gargan ‘hero’ who has been causing trouble for your clan at Samar Patag lately. Surely, you’ve heard of him?”
Annas’ smirk evaporated. “It’s a common name. Are you sure?”
Nor replied with a raised brow.
“I suppose I should know better than to doubt Iksana intelligence,” Annas said. “I apologize for my earlier words. This is… indeed useful information. A Gargan, huh?”
The Kothi nearly spit the word out.
“I suppose it makes sense. Though, if true, this makes him a formidable opponent. I’ve not been back to the city myself, but as much as I loathe to say it, I have heard his combat prowess is… substantial.”
Nor barked a laugh. “He drove back an entire Ash Beast horde. By himself! Substantial indeed. Though, I suppose that’s not quite right, is it? He did it with the help of his Ash Wolf.”
“Ash… Wolf?”
Annas blanched. “Nor. You can’t mean… You’re saying it’s an Ash Wolf?”
“Saw its Ash prana myself when we fought. I doubt they were trying to hide that fact.”
“That’s… impossible. Not even the Aindri can tame Ash Wolves… Favored by the Ravager. The hero of the Garga. What is this nonsense?”
“I do not know, Annas. Raja Sagun’Ra has been tight-lipped about the whole affair. There are details about this Vaak to which even I am not privy. Luckily, it will not be an issue.”
Nor grabbed Annas’ palm and shoved a small, purple vial into his palm.
The Kothi stared at the vial, then said, aghast,
“Poison? Against Vaak? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Nor shook his head. “Not against Vaak. Too dangerous. His wolf. Nobody will care if the wolf dies. And then you’ll have one less opponent.”
Annas played with the vial, eyeing it contemplatively. “It is still too risky. This could be traced back to me, and any foul play—even against his animal—would result in my disqualification.”
Nor cracked a grin, and Annas realized he’d been played.
“It won’t,” came the Iksana’s confident reply. “You do realize who he will fight next, yes? Assuming tomorrow’s matches resolve as expected?”